21. Ransom
21
RANSOM
I forgive you.
I forgive you.
That's what I came here for. That and to make sure Blair is okay. But she's made it pretty fucking clear that she's fine. That she's mostly happy.
And that Robert didn't know her as well as he thought he did. He set us on this collision course because he was projecting his shit all over Blair and this town. But she doesn't want to sell, and it's not because I'm the one making the offer. It's because she's happy in that garage and part of this community.
"Fuck!"
I slap my hands on the wheel and yank it to the side, pulling off on the shoulder. My heart is racing in my chest, so I roll the window down and focus on sucking in big breaths of the cold air. We talked. She's okay. She forgave me. And there's nothing she wants from me.
So why the fuck is my chest so tight? Why is every mile of distance I put between us making it so hard to breathe?
My phone ringing over the car speakers scares the shit out of me. Nick's face flashes on the screen. Before I can overthink anything, I hit the button to answer.
"Nick."
"Ransom."
There's dead silence on the line, and it's enough to annoy me. "You called me."
"Right. Yeah. I did. Hey. How are you? How are things?"
How are things?
"Things are fine."
"Fine? Right. Fine. Of cour— Are you in Badger Falls?" he yells.
"Fuck me," I groan, and turn the volume way the fuck down. "Thanks. That was fucking wonderful. I'm pretty sure I just lost a quarter of my hearing, asshole."
"Right. Sorry. But are you?"
"Am I what?"
"Don't play dumb with me, fucker."
"No, I'm not in Badger Falls." It's the truth; I should leave it there. I know I should. I could return home, wash my hands of all of this, of this town, and move the fuck on with my life.
I should.
"I'm about twenty miles outside of town. I was leaving."
"Was. You were leaving, and now?"
"I'm on the side of the road."
"Sounds like things aren't fine, brother." Nick's voice turns low, soothing. It's the kind of voice he'd use with one of the women. Directed at them, it's just who he is. Turning that shit on me? He's trying to handle me.
I just might let him because I sure as fuck have no clue what's going on anymore.
"I don't know what the fuck I was thinking, coming out here."
"Why did you pick up and go last night? I'm assuming you left last night."
"Because this—she—was consuming me, and I needed to get it done so I could move the fuck on."
"Is it done?"
"I don't know."
"Brother, you're going to have to lay it out for me."
Tired of going it alone, of trying to get my head on straight myself, I lay it out for him. My rush to town, the fucking cow, Blair finding me on the side of the road. And tonight's conversation.
"That's a fucking eventful twenty-four hours," he finally says. He's silent, in that way of his, digesting everything I told him, looking for the angles, trying to piece together a puzzle he doesn't have all the pieces to. "So you went there to finish it, and it seems like you've done that. The woman doesn't want to sell."
"No, she doesn't."
"Brother, just saying… she's been pretty clear about not wanting to sell for an entire year. But you weren't hearing it. Why?"
"I didn't believe her."
"Why?"
"Because she hates me enough to say no because it's me. I thought that what I did to her would be all she's thinking about, instead of what the money could do for her."
"What you did to her," he echoes. There's no question in his tone, but I know him well enough to know he's dying to ask. But Nick understands guilt. And he understands the mistakes you pay for with your future.
"I was in love with her, man. Not kid love, real love. Yeah, I was young, but she was it for me. And her dad had a problem with it."
"Because you were a foster kid? That's fucked up."
"No. Because I was fifteen. And she was about to turn eighteen. And he found us in her room together one night. We didn't… we didn't have sex. But we were heading that way. Fuck, if we hadn't been interrupted, we would have. I was ready. We both were."
"Almost eighteen," he murmurs, and I hear the understanding in his voice. "Fuck. That kind of gap between two people in their twenties is no big deal. But at that age, the law is pretty clear."
"Yeah, it is. And he was afraid for her if we crossed the line."
"Blair doesn't always understand boundaries, Ransom. She might not realize the consequences of her actions. And I'm terrified she's going to end up in handcuffs because of it."
I still remember the tightness in his face, the worry in his eyes. He was terrified, and back then, I didn't fully grasp how scared he actually was. But he was a cop. He had to have seen all kinds of things. That label, 'statutory rape,' is something that you can't escape. It's a fucking crime.
"Is that why you ended up leaving town? He sent you away to protect her?" God, if only he had sent me away. It would have been easier on me, that's for damn sure. I would have someone other than myself to blame.
But that's not how it happened.
"It wasn't like that. He didn't send me away. I decided to go. I didn't want anything to hurt her. I didn't want her life ruined. And I knew I couldn't stay there, in the bedroom next to hers, and not want to be with her."
"So you left the only family you had and went to that fucking hellhole?"
Groaning, I bark out a laugh. Hellhole is a pretty accurate description of that group home we all met at. My line there wasn't straight, though. I took a detour first, but that's another thing I never discussed with my brothers. "Yeah, pretty much."
"How the fuck did you handle that? How did you not just curl up into a ball and check the fuck out?"
I did. "It was something Robert said, actually, before I left. There was a lot of fucked-up shit going on in my head back then, but he told me that I should find a group of people who would watch my back and work together to build a life."
"And you just walked in there with a plan?"
"I didn't go straight there. I spent a year at another group home first."
"How the fuck didn't I know this?" There's a bite in his tone that I can't be too mad at. "Why are you such a secretive fuck?"
"Because my past is a black fucking hole that sucks me in. I can't go there. I can't let myself get pulled down." My throat is tight, faces of the people I've lost flashing in front of my eyes. "I'm afraid I'll never get back out."
Nick falls silent on the other end of the line. I can almost hear the gears turning in his head as he processes everything I've just dumped on him.
"I get it, man," he finally says, his voice low and understanding. "I've caught glimpses of that darkness before, but I never wanted to pry. Just know, if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here. Always."
His words hit me hard, a lump forming in my throat. "Thanks, brother. I appreciate that."
"So," Nick continues, clearing his throat. "Are you coming home?"
I hesitate, my grip tightening on the steering wheel. "Yeah, I'm heading back."
"You don't sound too sure about that."
"I am," I insist, but even I can hear the doubt in my voice.
"What are you really walking away from here, Ransom?" Nick probes gently. "Talk to me."
I take a deep breath, trying to sort through the jumble of emotions in my head. "Nothing. There's nothing left between Blair and me. It's ancient history. I should just leave her to her life and go back to mine."
"Uh-huh," Nick says, skepticism dripping from his tone. "And you believe that?"
"I have to," I mutter.
"Do you? Really? Because it sounds like there's a fuck of a lot more to it. How did you feel seeing her again? Was it what you expected? I mean, she's a fucking knockout. Was she like that at seventeen?"
Was she a knockout? "She was all arms and legs back then. She was tall, really tall when I first met her. At twelve, I was big for my age, but I still had to look way up to her when I met her. And I didn't fucking like that at all. I caught up the next year, and the year after that, I was a bit taller than her. I used to try and tease her about it."
"Try?"
"Yeah, she's always been a little different. She never reacted the way the other girls did. There was no squealing or yelling. She was like a duck on a pond. Everything still on the surface. It took me a long time to figure out there was a lot more than I knew going on underneath the water."
"She sounds like a bit of an enigma," he says, sighing. "My favorite kind of woman. Bree's like that. She has this way of disappearing on me while she's in the same room with me, and I know she's got so much spinning through her mind. I like being able to help her calm it. Or be the one she talks it out with."
"We used to spend hours just talking. We'd sit on this bench in the town square until curfew. Some nights, I didn't want to go home. Sitting there with her felt like… everything."
"So when you saw her again, was it the same?"
"Aside from the fucking wrench and worrying she might come at me? Fuck, yeah, it was the same. I thought… well, it doesn't matter what I thought. She's not going to leave this town."
" Dios ," he mutters. "You were hoping she would."
"I didn't—" A wave of realization washes over me. How the hell have I been so blind? "Fuck. I think I did." My family's in Chicago. My responsibilities. I need to be there for them, to take care of everyone. And he's right. Some sick part of me wanted her to sell, so she would be free.
Free to be with me.
"You're still in love with her." There's no question in his voice. It's a statement of fact. But he's wrong.
"I can't be. I don't know her anymore. She's lived a whole life without me. We're both different people." I don't entirely believe myself, but logically, who the fuck finds the love of their life when they're fifteen? "It was easier to hang onto the idea of her. She stayed this perfect memory, and I could compare every other woman to her."
"And nobody else measured up."
"No, they didn't."
"And now that you've seen her… does this version of her live up to the Blair you had in your head all these years?"
"She's different," I admit. "But not in a bad way. She grew into her body. She's so fucking beautiful. And her eyes? They're as stunning as they ever were. She's stunning."
"But you're not in love with her?"
I don't answer. I can't. Because it doesn't matter if I love her. It doesn't matter that she's the woman I dream about every night of my life. I broke things between us, and as much as I might wish I could fix them, I can't picture it. She's never leaving this town.
And I won't abandon my family.
I wouldn't survive it.
Not again.
"Look, man, why don't you stay a bit longer?" Nick suggests. "Spend some more time with Blair. Work her out of your system. Prove to yourself there's really nothing left there."
My heart races at the thought. "I don't know if that's a good idea."
"Why not?"
I can't bring myself to say it out loud, but the truth is, I'm terrified. Terrified that what I feel is all too real. That if I stay, I might never want to leave. And that would mean giving up the family I've built, the brothers who've become my whole world.
"Tomorrow's Friday. You know fuck all's going to get done tomorrow anyway." He's not wrong. There's a lot of distraction, bickering, and the occasional NERF war on Fridays. And Cara's already moved my appointments. Anything that has to be handled can be passed on to one of my brothers. "So take the day. Try and spend a little time with her, without the distraction of buying her garage between you. Find out who she is now. Just focus on tomorrow. That's it."
"It's not that simple, Nick."
"Sometimes it is. Life isn't really all that complicated. We're talking about you spending another day away from the office. It's just reconnecting with someone that used to matter to you. That's all. Anything else is just shit in your head clouding things."
"And then what? I move to Badger Falls? My life is in Chicago. Family is in Chicago."
"Brother," he breathes, "you're spinning out. We're two hours away. And you're never going to be rid of us. We're too fucking attached. We're family for life."
I swallow hard, emotion threatening to overwhelm me. It's true. I know I won't lose them, even if we don't see each other every day. I know that in my head. My heart though? It has a big problem with the idea of not being there to take care of them. "Yeah, I know."
"So stay," Nick urges. "Spend a day with her. What's the worst that could happen?"
"I could lose everything," I whisper.
"Or you could gain something you never knew you were missing," Nick counters. "You won't lose us, brother. We'll be here, no matter what, you fucking drama queen."
I close my eyes, conflicted. The pull towards Blair, towards the possibility of what could be wars with the fear of losing the family I've fought so hard to build.
"I don't know if I can," I admit.
"You can," Nick assures me. "And we'll be right here waiting for you. Whatever you decide."
His unwavering support nearly breaks me. "Thanks, brother. I... I'll think about it."
As I hang up the phone, I'm left with a swirling mess of emotions. The road stretches out before me. Do I drive away, back to the safety and certainty of the life I've built? Or do I turn around, back towards Blair and the panic attack I feel coming on?
I sit there, engine idling, torn between two worlds and unsure which path to take.
My life is amazing. My brothers, their wives, the kids. I love all of it. My life is in Chicago, with all of them. I'm alive because of them. And that's not an exaggeration. I was in a different group home when I first got back to Chicago. It was a hellhole, but I was so numb from losing Blair and Robert that I couldn't do much more than survive. But I watched everyone around me, Robert's voice playing on repeat through my head. I even tried to make a few connections. But none of it was right.
I wasn't right.
And slowly, day after day, things got clearer. I realized I didn't need to have all the answers because it wasn't about me. Yeah, I was building a family, and I was going to benefit from that, but really, it was an act of contrition. A way to make up for the mistakes I made.
Taking kids who had nothing and nobody looking out for them and giving them someone to depend on was reparation.
And, as it turns out, my salvation.
Because once I had this family, I realized that just getting by wasn't good enough for them. They deserved more.
They deserved fucking everything.
And I was going to do whatever I had to do to make sure they got it.
It wasn't about me. It never has been.
And up until Robert came to see me, my path was clear. I was a fucking freight train barreling toward my future. But everything I planned, everything I wanted, I've gotten.
The road stretches out before me. It should be simple. Just go home. But I can't do it. Who the fuck am I? Everything I've built, everything I've worked for, is in Chicago.
But I can't bring myself to keep moving. There's something unfinished back in Badger Falls, something I need to explore before I can truly move on—or decide if moving on is what I really want.